Flames and Fury
Chapter 1: An Unusual Encounter Heat seeped into thick paw pads, and scorched the flesh. The scent of burning scales overwhelmed the senses to whom the talon belonged to, but the owner had given up on preventing pain long ago. They just learned to accept it. As the figure continued, they gained a brisk, jaunty stride; padding along the sweltering basalt stone. A long, murky black tongue lolled out from a maw glistening with sharp white teeth. It was a serpentine gesture, perhaps, but something about the way they did it made it seem far more similar to a mammal. Like a coyote dying of thirst. A tail thrashed behind the creature, aligned with thin bristle like spines, they traced from the tip of the extremity to the lengthy neck, which was held up and curved. Everything about the dragon was strange, from their scales, which, unlike some which had been seen before, were completely lackluster. As dull and matte, like the cold-hot monoliths surrounding their body. To their eyes, which shone like freshly cut slabs of obsidian, yet twinkled, and pinned down others with a shrewd violence; like a crow analyzing a newly killed carcass. Otherworldly was the NightWing, perhaps, but that did not deter the small, fascinated creature hidden behind the shadows not far from the prowling black-tongued one to continue staring. The watcher was a dragonet, no younger than three, perhaps. Small, and fragile in build, but sharper than an arrow in intelligence. Yet, she was gullible, naïve some could say. And she could not rid herself of the enthrallment with that dangerous dragon. Even yet they were probably twice above her age, something about the rareness and precision in the movements struck her innocent curiosity, so, like any bright-eyed youth, she had begun studying them. Unaware of the dragon’s name, or gender, or precise age. All she actually knew for fact was that they hung their tongue out from their jaw, even when speaking. Although it was far from grotesque, it was like a wolf wetting its lips before sinking its fangs into its prey. Unnerving. So far, the little one had conducted three whole days of mostly uninterrupted analysis, hidden behind a weighty stalagmite. Notes scrawled into the ground around her, and green eyes wide with enthusiasm. She ducked behind her cover once again, to scribble something meaningless down in the name of science, when a rather black, large-horned head thrust itself between her two-rock sanctuary and glassy dark orbs met her own. The dragonet let out a little squeak in surprise, and promptly tumbled over like a leaf in the wind. “What are you doing!” snapped a raspy, cold voice, and a short, sharp claw poked her in her ribs. She let out another little indignant snort before she clumsily scrabbled to an upright position. “A-absolutely nothing against rules, b-b-by the moon’s sake.” She stammered, miniature paws clutching her chest, “Oh.” Said the intruder, and the dragonet finally got a chance to take a good look, Female, about nine years old I’d say, scarred, maybe an assassin? Her eyes blew wide when she also noticed she was the exact dragon she had been studying. “Starcharts!” she chirped in disbelief; I never knew you had scars!” She exclaimed, eagerly writing the new information down below her. “I beg your pardon.” Snapped her test subject, sitting down on her haunches, and coiling her wire-like tail along her front-legs. She let out yawn, displaying her fangs in the process. “I-I’ve seen you around,” the little scientist corrected herself, blinking, and subconsciously charting details. “Mmk, I’m gonna go now, I thought you were maybe planning to lunge out and rip out my throat.” She gripped the hard surface with her talons, draped her tongue out from her maw, and a mad light flashed through her eyes. She threw her head back and laughed, then; it sounded like a deep-chested cough, or a manic cry of victory. The guffaw faded into a lung-rattling hack, like most NightWings here, the little one proposed she had raspatory issues, yet more severe ones than most. She felt a pang of sympathy for the poor dragon. She rose to her talons, and shook out her wings, eyeing the hatchling with tired eyes. “Wait, before you go,” she cried, seizing the larger creature’s talon with own, tiny one. “could you tell me your name.” “Only if you tell me yours fist,” she stated, slipping out from the youngster’s grasp, with an offended air to her. “Cleverness. It’s C-cleverness.” “Cute, it’s Hysteria, sure you’ve heard of me, if you haven’t, I’ve done my job well,” with that she winked, stuck her tongue out, then as quickly as she appeared, jumped out from behind the rocks and lightly padded off. Tail slithering behind her. It was than that Cleverness noticed the two tiny silver metal hoops shimmering from the dragon’s tongue, the reason why she had so much difficulty keeping it inside her mouth. Also, she must have been an assassin of some sorts? Her mind reeled with questions, yet she shook her head, and looked down at her writings. The one lone query floated in her brain. What had Hysteria thought of her work? Weird? Odd? An outrage? No, she hadn’t thought anything of it, at most she might have been a bit annoyed that she had made her come all the way to Clever’s hideaway. The dragonet sighed and slumped to the ground, suffering through a blockage all great geniuses went through. Doubt and the questioning of existence, yet, no dragon under four could have had that same jouska as young Cleverness did, but even some so smart could not withstand such ideas so young in life. So, promptly, she fell asleep, to soon be swept into her mother’s arms and whisked off to their cave… Category:Fanfictions Category:Fanfictions (Incomplete) Category:Content (Dragonarrow5767)